


Hurt

by RegulusLi



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1586225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegulusLi/pseuds/RegulusLi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I hurt myself by hurting you."<br/>One shot pwp for Malik/Altair, Angry sex and lots of nonsense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> It is my first time ever to write a English story, so please be kind.  
> This one was not originally wrote in English, and I am not a English speaker, there maybe some mistake and misuse, if you feel confuse during reading, please tell me on comment or send me a PM.  
> Thank you all so much for reading it! <3  
> Plus, I am not really sure about the "rape and non-con" warning, but I guess angry should sort of be warn since both of parties are not 100% willingly participated.

“I hurt myself by hurting you”。

 

The proud eagle of Masyaf has never been a chatty type of man, he always looks at the crowd with the haughty and almost arrogance look. Malik used to look up the man with Kadar at foot of one of the viewpoints, Altair’s face was blurred under the hood and sunshie, but Malik stubbornly remembered every detail of it: the angle of his lips, and his golden eyes under Masyaf’s sun light. In that moment, Altair nearly seems like embodiment of great eagle itself; that moment and every other moments, Malik thought that high above man was beyond any ordinary person. He was the proud of Masyaf, if wasn’t what happened followed on, he would be the proud of Masyaf forever.

Malik loved him, but hate him. 

The name curled on Malik’s tongue, the name represents blood and death, represents the life and cold body of his brother, represents his cutted-arm and everything he ever lost because of that. 

He tried everything to hate that man, he hated Altair since the very moment he brought that damn treasure of Soloman Tample. 

Honestly, he hates himself more than Altair. He hates his own weakness and helpless in that temple, hates himself for not protecting his brother. Something when he went blank behind the counter of Jerusalem bureau, Dai would wonder if that day, Robert fucking De Sable threw him out of temple instead of Altair, would Altair be able to fought the way out with Kadar.

In the end, this is only a dumb hypothesis, the reason of reality being truth is the pathetic unchangeability. 

He hates himself, unspeakable anger and grief almost eat him alive, hating others seems easier than this. Back then, Malike didn't realise that he just cast his fury and devastation upon Altair, brutally threw everything on his face, and maybe, just maybe, it would make himself feels better.

But now, watching the proud of Masyaf, that arrogant man gets on his knees, taking Dai’s penies into his mouth with blush and teared eyes is another feel. Altair swallowed the part of Malik even deeper, the hardness nearly trusting in his throat makes him want to vomit, but the master assassin just looks up and watches how the Dai lost every decency and grace because all the swallow and suck. 

Nobody knew how this started. 

Seen Malik once again, just out of Altair’s expectation. The first second he entered Jerusalem bureau, the first thing he saw is the hatraded eyes of Malik, his heart almost stoped for a second. Of course he remembers Kadar, remembers Malik, and the damn Apple, as well as the deep cut on his belly -- from his master, not enemy. 

He also remembers all the kissing and silenced trusting in the dark alley, the sweet pain and warm embrace. It seems not very long time ago, Malik just looked up, smiled at him and said:”Safety and peace, brother.” Then gave him a sneaky kiss when no one was watching. As for himself, was also a stupid, arrongant boy.

Right here, right now, standing two hurt men who hated each other.

Malik’s fingers are curled in vane, want to hold on something, but just scratch the wall in the end, silent night and all the walls still contain warmth from the daylight become the seminary of lust. Altair took off the hood which he even wear it during sleep. It makes Malik able to have a perfect view of the blush and shadow on the man’s face from a overlook angle. 

“All of this could have been avoided. And my brother … my brother would still be alive. Your arrogance nearly cost us victory today.”

His voice haunted in his own head, as he shouted at Altair with horsed voice; he was covered by blood and grief, and saw his devastated reflection in Altair’s frozen eyes. The maniacal man. If not for you, Kadar would still be alive, why it wasn’t you who died in that quest? The question explored in his mind, almost drives him crazy.

If you were died, would I be less painful?

If you were died, would everything be easier?

If you were died, how could I go on with my life...alone?

He heard his own silent scream, Altair holds his waistband with one hand, and caresses his balls with another one. The fiery mouth and all the suck and lick make Malik’s legs tremble. There is light shadow under his lashes, it makes him looks virtually gentle. 

There is bright light in front of him, Malik wide his eyes, and shakes breathlessly. After all the fog dissplated, Dai looks down and sees that proud man still kneel on the ground, face and lips covered by his cum. White liquid and red flesh become bright contrast, Malik finds himself devour by one strange feeling mixed with sanctification and desire. Altair coughs a little bit, then wipes out the cream on the corner of mouth with his hand, and looks up.

Colour of amber, the colour of azure stone, artists and litterateur describe the marvelous colour with thousands of different words, but Malik has ever seen the colour in Altair’s eyes.

”Do you want to go on?” The assassin asks with still face, the serenity in his voice lights up the fire inside Malik once again, it burns every single bit of emotion and sensation, only hatred and desire are left within.

I love you, I hate you.

Maybe if, if it were Malik who was toasted out of the stone gate, maybe Altair and Kadar would all be died, the he can be perfectly justifiable to blame and hate himself, not ...disgrace as now. However, right now, that boy who used to pull his sleeve and steal a kiss, who winked secretly but failed to hide the rare ancient book that was meant to be a gift to Malik; who was...once alive; that boy went through those suffocating anger and regret, became this apathy, cold-blooded assassin knelled in front of him.

Anger or hatred, even the impulsion to kill each other, Malik just doesn’t want to see the indifference impression on Altair’s face, like something is stucked in Dai’s throat and slowly killing him. He just want to find the look that exclusive to him again on the assassin’s face. Malik is terrified by this idea, he should has hated Altair, should has strangle that fucking bastard to death, should have craved for his blood and death, should not want to...kiss him.

“Why?” he hears himself ask with raucous voice, Altair thinks for a while and bits his bottom lip unconsciously, at last, says with clam and almost annoying tone: “I just want to do this.”

Just like before. Altair didn’t say it out loud, but Malik some how still receives it clearly, with druming heart beats. With all the memeory rushing back to him, the silenced kiss and fervent sex, and breathless moaning, back then, he was just Malik, and he was just Altair, they were not master assassins, nor Dai and Novice.

Before everything changed. 

You always do as you pleased and never listened, Malik can hear his own voice in his head, and he can still remember Altair’s tighten lips and whiten knuckle in that day. Malik could make a massive list of all Altair’s weakness: Ignored the creed, and disregarded advises, became arrogance with high-ranked skill, view enemy and brother with contempt. But he must to admit, Altair is still the quiet and proud man. 

Does he hate himself for everything? Hating himself for the helpless confront with templars, for getting hands dirty with his own brother’s blood, and for resignation in front of fate and destiny, also for the Malik looking at him with furious eyes. 

Maybe, furious anger is more preferable than frozen silence. Dai caresses through Altair cheeks and neck, that the kindest move he ever acted recently: when they didn’t try to irritate or kill each other. Malik has never tried to conceal his hatred toward Altair: he stared furiously, tried to irritate the novice with various of words, tried his best to make the new-ranked-novice’s life miserable, and used every single chance to mock and show contempt of Altair when he attracted too much attention during mission or simply acted stupidly. Whereas Altair merely looked at him silently, argued sometimes, but mainly in silence.

“He shows his pride with silence.” Dai of Damascus once told Malik, then showed appreciation of former master assassin’s superior combat skill, Malik just twitched his lips with scorn. The only thing Altair could do with his silence, is making Malik even more furious. Flames of fury in his lower belly devoured all his logic and reason.

Want to kill him, want to kiss him.

Therefore, Malik presses his lips on Altair’s, it is not a kiss, not a kiss involves any kind of warmth or love anyway, just biting each other’s lips with sense of blood and cum. Malik holds master assassin’s shoulder, watching him struggled to regain control: that fucking control freak. So he nobs the hardness between Altair’s legs with his knee, it makes Mr control freak lost all the strength in a flash.

And in next minute, master assassin is pinned to ground by Dai.

“Why?” Altair asked hoarsely, breath is little bit rapid due to anterior actions. Whereas Malik merely lifts one of his eyebrow and says dryly: “I just want to do it.”

Altair’s waist tensed like a bow when Malik ripped his belt and pants off, Malik does not sure if Altair is ready or would be broke. The assassin still has his robe on, even so, Malik remains sight of all his scars and wounds. Scars are medal of a man, Malik touch every scars on his abs, but all other novices seems to believe Altair would never be wounded, believe he is some kind of supernatural creature.

A natural assassin, devil feed by blood, some people use those words to describe Altair. Malik didn't argue when he heard this, even think it made some sense: he always saw Altair covered by blood (maybe his blood, maybe others), but never saw him deal with any wound or require any medicine; saw him stood highly on the top of castle, throw over all the walls, but yet never saw catch him eating. Maybe he is indeed feed by blood.

Only Malik has chance to see the human part of Altair, or maybe only Malik can make Altair human again.

Dai strokes the fit thigh of the assassin, and watches his dick twitches and await for touching, he can clearly feel the trembling waist and inner desire of Altair, flames in his belly are looking for a exist to burn. Altair’s skin is pale due to lacking of sunlight, but Malik believe it has some relation with the bleeding wound on Altair’s shoulder few days agon. However, when his fingers fondles through his entry and between his butt cheek, Altair kicks side of his waist. Pain slowed his movement, and followed by adrenaline. Altair takes advantage of it and turns around, presses Malik on the ground, then rides on his hips, using his butt nuzzling and teasing Malik’s hardness. 

Yes, it’s the expression, and the golden eyes, Malik lifts his hand to caress the near-smiled lips, feels his tongue twine on his thumb, and his arse is still teasing. Such a asshole, Malik frowns and looks at Altair’s gloating face, bump assassin’s twitching hole with his penis, and gains a moan form that horny bastard.

This two men uses such childish ways to make each other submit, to squash all the anger and hatred out of their body, when Altair swallow Malik once again, Malik signs and then realises he totally forgot why all of this even happened.

He touches Altair’s throat, and image how would it feel if he strangled it, and the breathless sound he would made. In the end, he just leaves a uncoverable red mark on Altair’s upper neck.

I love you, I hate you.

Even though, all we can do right now, is hurting each other. I thought it could make us closer, but turns out just pushing you away. I made you belong to me in a cruel way, and only get a cold eyes.

I love you, I hate you.

I've hurt myself by hurting you

 

——Fin——

 

Lyrics：  
Hurt  
By：Christina Aguilera

Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face  
You told me how proud you were, but I walked away  
If only I knew what I know today  
Ooh, ooh

I would hold you in my arms  
I would take the pain away  
Thank you for all you've done  
Forgive all your mistakes  
There's nothing I wouldn't do  
To hear your voice again  
Sometimes I wanna call you  
But I know you won't be there

Ohh I'm sorry for blaming you  
For everything I just couldn't do  
And I've hurt myself by hurting you

Some days I feel broke inside but I won't admit  
Sometimes I just wanna hide 'cause it's you I miss  
And it's so hard to say goodbye  
When it comes to these rules

Would you tell me I was wrong?  
Would you help understand?  
Are you looking down upon me?  
Are you proud of who I am?

There's nothing I wouldn't do  
To have just one more chance  
To look into your eyes  
And see you looking back

Ohh I'm sorry for blaming you  
For everything I just couldn't do  
And I've hurt myself, ohh

If I had just one more day  
I would tell you how much that I've missed you  
Since you've been away  
Ooh, it's dangerous  
It's so out of line  
To try and turn back time

I'm sorry for blaming you  
For everything I just couldn't do  
And I've hurt myself by hurting you


End file.
